The shadowy, indeterminate veil, like the sunset’s unwanted gray clouds, fell back over her, and with Margaret no longer wielding a knife to cut through the deadness, she teared up, in gratitude, for seeing through and being seen through.

“What does she think of me in the daylight? What do I think of her?”

“The táltos key ability is the trance. The révülés.

They send their soul into the stars to stir the others.”

Sometimes you didn’t even know where to go until the floor stopped rumbling and the rusty doors opened. And there you were, right where you needed to be.

“I have not let go of your pictures for days.”

“Sohee, who lives in Seoul, endured the little boy's runny nose and scream.”

A mostly-true night of degeneracy, recalled by Benjamin Grose

“One day the old man called us up to his porch.”

“The sun began its dramatic descent, stretching and reaching and spilling rays of ultraviolet amber. A zipper seam of white bounce, like a child’s drawing.”